


Don't Lead Me On

by JanaNa



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, S02E03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaNa/pseuds/JanaNa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roarton is falling to pieces around him, and Kieren realizes it's only a matter of time before something gives way. Torn between the very real threat of the new MP's frightening regime and the gathering of Roarton PDS sufferers for the rebellious ULA, Kieren questions everything he ever thought his undead life would be. Escape is impossible. Sitting on the sidelines is not an option.</p><p>Sooner or later, Kieren knows he'll have to pick a side; he just hopes the mysterious and dangerously charming Simon Monroe won't be the one to do it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Kieren went stumbling through the dark night to the bungalow, it hadn’t at all been with the intention of kissing Simon Monroe. That hadn’t even crossed his thoughts as his mind’s eye was too busy replaying the way Gary had so ruthlessly pitched Freddie into the back of his truck with such a poisonous glare and those vindictive words slipping off the top of his tongue. Kieren was so angry he could feel his nails biting into the soft flesh of his palms as he clenched his fists by his sides. His breath came in ragged gasps as he nearly lost his footing on an uneven flowerbed, and, as he lurched over the last bit, he realized it wasn’t only anger he felt, but a deep-seated fear; its dark tendrils were snaking up his spine as he finally spotted the quiet bungalow up ahead, the lights in the windows dim and warm, like shades of sepia.

He didn’t know why, but he stopped before he reached the property; shrouded in the dark of night, he hesitated. He felt angry and afraid, afraid for himself, for all the things unknown in his near future; he could feel it like an oppressive weight on his shoulders, the fear of having his world ripped right out from under his feet, _again_ , and, more than that, having a new world—ruled by the terrifyingly cold MP, Maxine, and the likes of Gary and Phillip—forced onto him as if he were a criminal being placed behind the impenetrable walls of a jail. He feared the six months spent working in the giveback program would turn into six years, or even longer, just as Simon had told him it would. Roarton might as well be Auschwitz now, Kieren thought bitterly, and the fear clawed at his insides in a way he had never known when he had been alive. The more his life began to revolve around Roarton, the more he wanted to escape, but the longer he stayed the harder escape seemed to become. 

As he stood in the shadows of the bungalow Amy and Simon shared, Kieren felt angry and afraid, but also so very alone. While Maxine’s anti-PDS authority was horrifying and sickeningly tangible, Kieren couldn’t bring himself to reconcile the extremist practices of the Undead Prophet…of Simon…of _Amy_. He felt torn in the middle, stuck in limbo, engulfed by a gray area in a black and white world. Nothing felt right, and yet…

As he knocked on the door, bathed in the harsh glow of the porch light, it was as if he was having an out-of-body experience, watching himself from the middle-distance. It was only a matter of time before something gave in, he thought, as the door finally opened, and when his eyes landed on Simon, he knew what it would be even before he fully understood it. The look on Simon’s face, betrayed and unsmiling, did little to deter Kieren from brushing past the taller man and stalling in the front hall, unsure but determined. It was only then that Simon’s bitter features melted into something else, his eyes going wide with concern,

“Kieren, what is it?” He whispered, his voice still sharp, “What happened?” Kieren let a thought flit through his mind, _What’s going to happen?_ His eyes caught on the way Simon was looking at him, with eyes fierce and deep, protective. It made him shudder, and a warm twist of desire coiled low in his gut, a feeling he hadn’t been acquainted with in a very long time.

It only took him the span of a moment to close the distance between them, his lips clashing unexpectedly against Simon’s, their noses bumping unceremoniously; it wasn’t romantic, it probably wasn’t even very well thought-out, but it was what Kieren needed. He refused to allow himself to worry whether or not Simon was going to reject him, but, as the surprise slowly melted away, Kieren found he wouldn’t have had any reason to worry anyway; Simon returned his kiss with an urgent fervor, like a desperately thirsty man finally drinking water.

Simon’s fingers came to rest against Kieren’s cheeks, his palms cradling the younger man’s face, pulling him closer. God, it had been so long! As Simon teased Kieren’s lips open, his tongue slipping inside, eager to claim, Kieren felt a small noise escape the back of his own throat before he even knew it was there; his desperate moan, barely audible, was met with a sharp intake of breath, deliciously wanton; Simon raked one hand through Kieren’s blond hair, coming to clasp at the nape of his neck; Kieren felt a keen sense of daring and caught Simon’s lower lip between his own before reluctantly tipping his head back, slowly breaking the kiss. Simon’s sharp gaze was darkly seductive, intense, demanding; the look about them spoke of things Kieren was sure he had never even dreamed of before. A small, tantalizing crook of Simon’s lips had Kieren feeling dizzy, like the times he and Rick had swallowed down more White Lightening than they knew was good for them. Reality suddenly ripped through the moment as Amy’s voice reached them from the bedroom,

“Simon, who is it?” There’s a silence in which all Simon and Kieren can do is stare. Acute guilt hit Kieren like a wave, and who knew what Simon was feeling, Kieren couldn’t tell. Simon’s expression was blank, a mask slipping on fast like quicksilver. Amy’s voice travels to them again, 

“At the door, I mean.” She clarified, her voice as bright as it always is, sweet, tenacious curiosity its trademark. Simon stepped back from Kieren carefully and Kieren does the same, his fingers pulling at the hem of his own sweater, the back of his hand coming up to brush at his lips, as if Amy would be able to know about the kiss just from looking at him. Simon’s voice was calm and composed as he replied,

“It’s Kieren.” At this, they could hear rustling from the bedroom and Amy’s pleased hum,

“Oh?” She laughed as she rounded the corner and came into the living room, “At this hour?” She giggled, and Kieren was relieved to find that she didn’t suspect a thing,

“It’s only…y’know, a quarter past one.” He said sheepishly, glancing at the clock. He fought hard not to fidget as she came forward, draping her arms around his neck,

“A girl’s got to get her beauty sleep, Kieren, don’t you know?” She teasingly admonished and grinned over at Simon, who was still hard to read. Kieren suddenly felt tired, as if all the events of the night—Freddie’s turning, Gary’s dangerous reaction, the kiss with Simon—had abruptly come crashing back down on him; his expression must have given something away, because suddenly Amy is looking at him anxiously, her lips set in a serious little frown,

“Kieren…” She said carefully, “Well, why _are_ you here so late? What’s happened?” Her voice was soft as she carefully led him over to the couch, urging him to sit. Kieren gently removed himself from her arms, reluctant to take a seat and unexpectedly eager to leave,

“…It was Freddie,” He began, glancing at Simon, who was still standing by the doorway, “He went rabid. Nearly killed Haley.” Amy made a shocked sound, her eyes unbelieving,

“He’d never hurt her!” She exclaimed, and Kieren nodded,

“I know.” He agreed, “I don’t think he meant to go off…” He was tempted to glance at Simon again, but trained his gaze somewhere over Amy’s shoulder, “…Gary wanted to put him down, but,” his hand shook as he swiped it over his lips, self-conscious, “I got him his shot, and Gary hauled him away…” His tone was weary, and he shrugged as if that was all there was to the story. Amy was shaking her head, concern written across her pale features. There was silence in the room, and Kieren felt the urge to get away again. He made for the door, conscious of Simon being so close again,

“I just,” Kieren cleared his throat, hand poised on the doorknob, “I just thought you guys should know…” He said lamely and opened the door. Amy came around the couch and rubbed his back, right between his shoulder blades,

“Ah, Kier. That must’ve been tough.” She whispered consolingly, “Be sure to get home alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kieren smiled and nodded his thanks, turning towards the door. Simon moved slightly out of the way, so Kieren could slip past, and their eyes only met once, a fleeting glance. 

The look was indecipherable, but Kieren felt both a thrill of delicious anticipation and a tinge of bittersweet regret shiver down his spine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieren reflects on dangerous emotions (implied past suicide) and his relationship with Rick; in doing so, he wonders what kind of fate awaits him in the likes of Simon.

When Kieren makes it back to his house, he is still surprised to find that his parents aren’t waiting up for him; it’s a thing he’s sure he won’t ever get used to, even though he’s undoubtedly grateful they’re nowhere to be found besides asleep in their master bedroom. Some things never change, like his dad’s obsession over his massive movie collection and dorky jeans, his mother’s insistence on family dinners and the way she still keeps quiet on things she doesn’t want to talk about, like when Rick came back; some things don’t change, but other things do.

When Kieren looks around his childhood home, he remembers it as it was when he was five…ten…fifteen…but now, back from the grave, he realizes that it too has become altered with time; there aren’t as many pictures of him around from before, and he’s grateful for that. The memories are still difficult to reconcile for both Kieren and his family, although in different ways; in those pictures Mr. and Mrs. Walker see a talented boy who chose to end his life for reasons still largely mysterious to them, and Kieren sees a former self he will never be able to be again, both in mind and body.

On his way to the stairs, Kieren stops to touch a picture on a nearby shelf, his finger sliding over the cool glass. It’s a recent photo of him and Jem, a casual shot of the two of them on a park bench; Jem has on a rare smile, her arms crossed over Kieren’s shoulders as she stands behind his seated form. When he looks at her, he grins, but when he looks at himself all he sees is the mousse caked on too thick, its hue looking unnatural, and his eyes aren’t his own, not like when he was human; they’re darker, artificially tinted by the lenses, emptier. He drops his hand from the photo and feels a dreadful pang.

Jem’s growing up, his parents aren’t waiting on him to get home anymore or worrying like they used to, Roarton isn’t anything like the town he loved in his childhood…He feels like the world is moving on without him once again, and he can’t possibly keep up. Not even the promise of Simon’s kiss could make Kieren shake the strange feeling entirely. It’s a sickeningly dreadful anxiety that tastes bitter at the back of his throat and makes his skin crawl. It’s a feeling he’s felt before…

As he laid in bed that same night, Kieren turned up his wrist so the thin milky light bleeding in from the street lamp outside his window could fall over his lifted arm; he looked at the carefully stitched wound there, glaringly jagged and dark in the soft illumination. _Damn it, Rick_ , Kieren cursed to himself, _I miss you so much._ He let his arm fall back down to cover his eyes with it, as if to keep his room from seeing the tears that roll down his cheeks, into his hair. _Why does it still hurt to miss you this much?_

_Rick Macy hadn’t been Kieren’s friend from childhood. No, the two of them had met at the awkward age of fourteen, right before entering the awkward world of high school. Kieren had been a gangly, quiet boy with a penchant for carrying around a sketchbook and graphite pencils; because he was immensely likeable and fun, Rick had been instantly popular. Rick was friends with everyone, and that had somehow included Kieren, but not in the way most would think. With his broad, confident smile, quick wit, and skilled athleticism, no one really cared that Rick made friends with the odd Walker boy, so long as their friendship remained inconspicuous; and that’s what it was like when they were on campus, surrounded by peers who would never understand them. Inconspicuous, painfully ordinary._

_Kieren would occasionally see Rick around the halls, watch some of his rugby matches from the far corners of the stands, help him study for an algebra exam or two in the library, but no one would’ve guessed that outside of school, the two were nearly inseparable. Something about the way the two exchanged glances made Rick feel lightheaded with anticipation. It made him certain this wasn’t any old friendship; this had to be something more._

_They shared their first kiss when they were sixteen, hidden away in the cave they found out in the woods. It happened mostly on a whim, Rick tucking his head down in the low light, eyes half-lidded, unsure of where his lips would land. Rick figured he could just say it was an accident if it went wrong, but Kieren had felt how close Rick was, felt his uneven breath on his cheek and his lips so close; he knew what it meant. If Kieren was nervous, it was immediately tempered with sudden desire, and he leaned forward until his lips brushed soft skin. It was electric. Rick’s fingers found Kieren’s wrists and desperately pulled him closer. The kiss was wet and messy, but deliriously good; it was Kieren’s first kiss._

_They tentatively explored each other’s mouths, familiarizing themselves with the taste and smell of heated skin. They went on like this for what seemed like hours, and occasionally it was awkward; Kieren didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he left them bunched up in Rick’s T-shirt. He wasn’t sure, but from time to time he swore he could feel Rick’s erection through his jeans, but didn’t dare try to find out for sure; just the thought of making Rick hard had Kieren’s virginal mind spinning wildly but also left him frozen, daunted by the overwhelming possibility of exploring more than just Rick’s lips._

_The sun began to set and the evening glow seeping into the cave cast a strange yellow light over them. Kieren thought the ambiance was fitting; he felt like he was in a twilight zone. Rick gently pulled away, but kept his arms firmly around Kieren, who had found himself nearly on the other boy’s lap by now._

_“Ren.” He said softly, a breathy whisper, and Kieren didn’t know what it could possibly mean. Suddenly, he was afraid Rick might be regretting what they had just done. He averted his eyes and made to disentangle himself, shame heating his cheeks, but Rick quickly pulled him in again,_

_“Hey, Hey…” He whispered and tentatively reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kieren’s ear, his fingers lingering to trace soft skin. Kieren met his gaze, his eyes wide, waiting for the inevitable; after all, they had just irreversibly crossed a huge line and couldn’t go back._

_“This is...us.” Rick said hesitantly, sounding sure and unsure at the same time, as if he couldn’t articulate the millions of things he was feeling at that moment, “This feels good, Ren.” He went on reassuringly, because Kieren still looked skeptical._

_“This is scary.” Kieren blurted, as if to give him a last chance to back out. And it_ was _scary, in the best way possible, but Kieren was more afraid of losing Rick because of this new development in their friendship than scared of the development itself. If Rick ever lived to regret their kiss, Kieren would never be able to forgive himself. A small, amused smile quirked over Rick’s lips,_

_“Well, yeah, it is, mate…” He reached out and grabbed Kieren’s hand, twined their fingers together, “but it’s ok…” He leaned in again, chastely kissed Kieren’s surprised lips, “It’s ok.” And kissed them again, and again, until Kieren felt the worry leave him and in its place was the feeling of a deep longing finally being satisfied. He felt thrillingly alive and wonderfully fulfilled; it was as if the complicated puzzle pieces of his life were at long last beginning to fit together._

_Over the next two years, they kept their youthful romance a carefully hidden secret; no one suspected them of stealing away in the night to conspire to leave Roarton, to dream of a life together far away, to make love. Not even Rick’s father noticed anything off about the relationship, not even when Rick shared glances and smiles with Kieren that were anything but innocent; that is, his father didn’t suspect anything until Kieren made Rick a mixed CD, of all things. And then their world slowly started to crumble around them, not because Rick felt any less for Kieren than before, but, for a boy constantly pressed under the thumb of a domineering father, he couldn’t bring himself to take that last leap, to willingly invite the outside world into the incredible but taboo relationship the two of them had so cautiously created. Rick couldn't even fathom his father knowing; it scared him half to death because he knew his old man would_ never _understand. To lose Kieren would be hard, but if Rick had to lose him, he wouldn’t let it happen on his father’s terms. And so, Rick left for the army and not long after was killed. Just like that. His life snuffed out in the span of a breath. And Kieren suddenly had nothing but broken promises and memories left in his wake._

_Life wasn’t worth living when the puzzle pieces wouldn’t fit together anymore._

There was some solace in bringing back old memories, some peace in remembering the good times, as well as the bad. _It has to be this way,_ Kieren told himself, putting to rest the churning anguish for another day; blessed sleep was fast approaching, but not before Simon’s face appeared behind his eyelids… He saw his knowing stare, his secretive smile, and remembered the way he made his stomach flutter and his hands tremble…

Maybe things will be ok; maybe the future wasn’t as dark as it seemed. Rick may be gone, but the rest of his loved ones were still here with him: his mom and dad, Jem, Amy, Simon. Most importantly, Kieren realized, was that _he_ was still here, given a second chance to make things right. 

And maybe he should try. He owed Rick that much at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and please enjoy! :) More to come soon!


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